The Secret Story of a Dark Companion
by Ninmub
Summary: Fluffy Puzzleshipping, written because I was bored. Think: Yuugi's cuteness inspires overprotectiveness. The usual. [1 of 3]


Tra la la, I can't write present tense. Who gives? This is probably just going to be a home for all the vague Puzzleshipping oneshots I'm so fond of dreaming up. So, yes, this is shonen-ai. And yes, I don't own _Yu-Gi-Oh!_ And yes, this is dedicated to my cat, because he's the only other living creature awake right now. I have officially become nocturnal. Again.

**The Secret Story of a Dark Companion**

The young one is restless.

The moonlight shines through my hands; the pale shadow that falls behind me is like water, insubstantial, only half there. This is not how it was before. The days were hot, so hot that the sky seemed to be made of glowing glass, and the nights were cool, filled with stars. I can barely remember those times now. There are no stars here; the lights of the city have hidden them.

I am dead.

I sit down on the end of the bed, and watch the small one as he sleeps: curled on his side under the blanket, the Puzzle positioned carefully next to him, his fingers clutching loosely at the chain as a child clutches at the hand of its parent. He is dreaming - strange, shallow dreams that have barely any shape, but that frighten him all the same.

I know this, because he is mine to watch over, mine to protect. He will do great things, and I must help him.

He stirs in his sleep, letting out a small, strained cry of protest. He is afraid, although of what neither of us can tell. It's only a dream: a fluid, faceless dream. I feel him jolt into wakefulness a moment before his eyes snap open, staring at the opposite wall in confusion. He is breathing quickly, and I can feel the dim echo of his heavy, fluttering heart nudging my mind.

I don't have a heart.

I am dead.

He sits up, slowly, hugging his knees to his chest for a moment. "Hello, Yami," he says to his feet.

"Hello, Yuugi," I say. "Were you dreaming?"

"Yes," he says.

"What was it about?"

"I don't know," he says, firmly, and swings his legs out of the bed, going to sit at his desk as he often does when he is troubled. He reaches for one of the books that he reads so often – books on history and archaeology and ancient times. He begins to flip the pages over, searching for the place where he last stopped reading.

"Why are you reading that?" I ask, getting up and standing next to him.

"Oh, I'm not very sleepy right now, that's all," he tells me, brightly, looking up into my face with a smile, the moonlight bleaching his eyes a soft shade of lilac. "I figured I'd read for a while."

"I thought you were having a bad dream," I say, curiously.

"Oh, it wasn't really a _bad_ dream. I'm OK!" he assures me.

"You're cold," I say, touching his shoulder, feeling it tensed with suppressed shivers. I can see his skin through my hand. I am a ghost.

"Well, it's a cold night, silly," he points out, smiling blankly at the pages of the book.

"Then you should be in bed," I tell him, kneeling down next to him and closing the book. "What were the dreams about? Dreams have meanings. Dreams can be important."

"Not always," he says, tiredly, turning to look into my eyes. "They were only dreams, Yami. I'm alright now! I promise you I am."

"Only dreams?" I ask, putting a hand over his small fingers, splayed on the dark wood of the table.

"Only dreams," he replies, smiling at the contact, placing his thumb over the back of my hand and looking up at me thankfully, his eyes huge and filled with adoration. "Only dreams."

I am only a dream. I am a ghost. I am dead.

"You need your sleep," I say, tucking my arm around his cold shoulders and pulling him up gently. His small, solid body is flush against mine, his hands pressed up against my chest. I smile down at him, feeling the life singing inside him, feeling his young, quiet thoughts thrill. My arm curved around his back, I steer him back to the bed, and make him sit down in it, watching closely as he draws the blankets up over his knees.

"Look," he says, proudly, reaching for the Puzzle, holding it up so that it catches the moonlight. The wdjet seems almost to blink at me as the moonbeams glance off it. "Our Puzzle."

I sit down next to him, and he shifts over to make space. He likes looking at the Puzzle, inspecting it for damage, and he likes me to do the same. It is very precious to him, I know. I touch his face for a moment, very tenderly, before looping the chain of the Puzzle around his neck. "Now it's safe," I tell him.

"We're safe," he says, softly, contentedly, lying down again, pulling the blankets up to his chin and gazing up at me. I feel my expression soften, and lie down next to him, slipping an arm underneath his head, wrapping the other around his torso. He sighs, and nuzzles his small face into my chest, curling himself up again.

"Do you dream?" he asks, his voice muffled and slurred with the approaching sleep.

"No," I tell him.

"Never?"

"Never. I don't really sleep, Yuugi."

"Are you sure?"

He knows that I am not lying, but he knows that I am not telling the truth. I say, slowly, holding him to me very tightly, "I have memories. They are few, and I can't understand them, but they are there."

He nods into my chest. "I thought so."

I hold him as I feel him move closer and closer to sleep, his mind drifting away and gradually shutting out the world. I am only a dream to him. I am a ghost. I am dead. I am here because of old powers that should not even exist, and soon he will no longer be mine. Soon the dream will be over, and he will wake, and go out into the real world with his friends, with the people who love him, while the sunlight shines through me, and I dwindle away into grey dust.

My small one will forget me, and learn to live without me.

"No, I won't," he mutters, his lips barely opening. "You have your memories. I have mine. My memories will always be of you."

I almost laugh, because he is so young. "Go to sleep, Yuugi."

"Promise me you'll be here when I wake up," he says. "Please, Yami?"

"I'll be waiting for you," I say.

Together we slip away: I into the empty darkness of the Puzzle, he into the soft brightness of sleep.

* * *

Ah, hell. Don't mind me, I'm strange. I have plans for making this into a three-shot, actually…don't know if I will or not.

Review?


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